Curse the Light
by et-spiritus-sancti
Summary: Her condition a secret, a halfbreed vampire is transferred to Hogwarts. But for how long can she keep hidden? pg13 for some violence, language, and mild sexual situations. OCHP, OCDM
1. The Stench of Money

To forewarn, this story is going to definitely be AU. It would be easier to fit Nora's character in, if the Order of the Phoenix was a movie by now, but such isn't the case and for Nora's story to even work, I have to cut down on a great deal of the drama during the 5th book. Hopefully this won't upset anyone. I'm using the fantastic world of Harry Potter as a backdrop because the story is centered on Nora and her future love interest as well as the drama of her own world. I hope no one sees this as butchering the book or anything, but please just think of this as simply 5th year at Hogwarts for all the characters. Though I hope to be incorporating much of the book and characters including Luna, Cho, the DA, and possibly Umbridge since she's such a wonderfully evil character (yet very annoying, so I'm not really sure if I want to use her). If you're still reading this then I guess that's a good sign, I hope you enjoy!

Started: 2/18/06

Chapter 1: The Stench of Money 

"Stop pulling at your shirt, _fată._ You stretch it!"

Nora instinctively straightened in the seat, tucking her arms around her sides. Her nanny nodded approvingly, thrusting her double chin in the air. Nora resisted rolling her eyes. Even in these horrid times, the woman retained her sense of importance, when it fact, she had none. Not anymore. Nora had accepted this a year ago. But Nanny Valerious was a stubborn old bat. Convinced her job was as important as it had always been. Nora ignored the woman's wrinkled, quivering chin and returned her attention to the passing trees and brush.

The young woman sighed resignedly, longing for the Romanian skyline and the snowcaps of the mountains she'd grown to have so much affection for. Affection gained despite the many miserable years living there in fear. But, England was remarkably better than India. To think she'd spent the entire summer in that dustbowl. Far too much sun in that country. At least here she didn't have to cover nearly every inch of her skin in fear of burning it. Or that was what she told the Muggles who questioned her odd attire. To Muggles, she had a slight allergy to the sun if in it directly for a short time. But to the people of her world, she was a bizarre half-breed.

Nora bit her tongue when she felt her eyes prickle with tears. What was this? Weakness? When had that happened? She stubbornly swallowed the emotion. Must always be strong. _Smile at death, for it smiles back_. Nora remembered her father's words clearly. She recalled the hurried whisper in her ear that night twelve months ago when he barely escaped with his life. The urgency in his voice told her to stay alive. Fight to the death if it meant hers might be at stake. Be brave, always. Well, that was what Nora took from his hasty riddle.

Nora moistened her lips and tried to ignore the knot in her stomach. She had to remember that this was going to be a brand new start. Clean slate. No one would know who (or what) she was. All except the Headmaster of this new school. She managed a smile as she recalled all the things she'd heard about Hogwarts. It's magnificence certainly made her old, measly wizardry school pale in comparison. Nora could only frown as she was taunted by the memories of her four years at the creaky school located outside Transylvania. For her own safety, all those years she'd had to keep a very low profile at the school. But it didn't stop students from knowing she was only half-Romanian. This alone justified, in their eyes, immediate alienation. Not to mention the rumors that swam around were enough to fuel her miserable existence there.

Nora swept the memories away, trying to think positively. From what she'd heard of Hogwarts, it was a remarkably tolerant school, readily accepting students other than purebloods. Supposedly, a half-giant taught the Care of Magical Creatures class, and there were even rumors that a werewolf had taught Defense Against the Dark Arts one year. Of course no one would know her true self, but the mutual feeling of respect for everyone would certainly help build her confidence.

"_Fată,_ you listen to one word I say?" Nan's broken English interrupted the girl's thoughts and she couldn't help but pull at her shirt again and shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"I'm sorry, Nan. I was just thinking."

Nan narrowed her black little eyes and made a great deal of shaking her head. "What you think about? No time for thought. You must listen, or you die."

Nora was by now used to Nan's incorrect usage of the language and knew that "or you die" actually just meant, "or you'll have some trouble." Some things just become lost in translation. But it was rather amusing to watch Nan interact with a new person who took her words quite seriously.

"Now," she put great strain on the word and grasped Nora's hand with her own portly one, "This be first time ever we be apart. I hope you not die," she said this rather pointedly and Nora had to judge if she really meant death, "and this be new school for you with new people." She said this pleasantly and Nora smiled swiftly. But the smile was wiped off her face just as quickly when Nan's expression dropped, her eyes bulged, and the grip on Nora's hand was like steel.

"You talk to _nobody_. Do work. Get good score. Act like lady. But most important, _fată, _talk to _nobody_. Or you die."

Nora weighed the serious expression on Nan's face. She decided to take the advice to heart, or she simply told Nan so much. The old woman left no room to argue and help the soul who would ever start an argument with her.

Satisfied, Nan patted the girl's hand and tightened her fingers around the handle of her little purse. To Nora's surprise they had arrived in London some time ago. So lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed before. Through the car window, Nora stared nervously at the Muggles on the streets. But it wasn't their appearance that always startled Nora when she'd been allowed to venture into Muggle territory before—but the sounds. In the car was fairly safe, but out in the streets was terrifying. A cacophony of noise strained the ears at ever turn. Things beeped and blipped and rang and boomed and blasted. Cars alone made Nora nervous and she found herself frequently glancing at the driver, hopeful he knew exactly what he was doing.

"The train station is five minutes from here, ma'am." The driver said. Nan nodded and sighed, muttering to herself in their native tongue.

Nora felt an entire new set of knots twisting in her gut, so she leaned forward and stuck a finger into the cage her raccoon, Maximus, was sleeping in. Nan bristled beside her and grunted.

"Unclean creature," she muttered, her lips twitching in disgust, "I know not why I let you get it."

Nora shrugged and cooed at the raccoon that slept peacefully in its cage. The truth was, Nora was rather disappointed at the rodent's lack of energy, even at night. Nora was convinced the thing would be thoroughly content with sleeping in his cage until his heart stopped.

Before long, the car pulled into the station and Nora was greeted with a range of smells when she got out of the car. City smells. She'd forgotten how...odorous they were. Nan noticed it too and scrunched her nose, repeatedly halting in her action to raise a finger under her nostrils. If one thing pleased Nora, it was the cloudy sky above them. Her skin merely tingled pleasantly and it was quite calm to her sensitive eyes.

Once the driver had loaded all her things into the cart, Nan handed him the payment furtively. Galleons were rather flashy coins and they certainly didn't need to attract any wandering Muggle eyes.

Nora pushed her full cart to the platform between Nine and Ten and grasped her ticket from her pocket, studying it with a furrowed brow. "Platform Nine and Three Quarters," she murmured, "Nan, where do you suppose this is?" She asked in a louder voice, handing the ticket to the older woman.

Nan examined it over her glasses, the corners of her mouth drooping in thought. She raised an eyebrow, thrusting the ticket back into Nora's hand. "Simple. It is right here. We wait for train."

Nora blinked and glanced around her. Usually magic-folk were fairly easy to spot. And the train would depart to Hogwarts within only fifteen minutes. If the train were to simply show up, one would think there'd be other students.

"I—I don't think so, Nan."

The woman huffed and shook her head, the feathers in her hat swaying. "I am adult here. I know the train will come."

Nora sighed with defeat. When the woman made up her mind, that was it. And if the train would never come to this spot, in Nan's mind, it would mean it was late, which would be most rude, and they might as well put her in a different school. Nora would have none of it.

She released her grip on the cart and walked about, craning her neck in all directions, searching for another cart bearing trunks and perhaps an odd, caged creature. She also kept her eyes peeled for magic-folk, usually recognizable. It didn't take long.

If wealth had a stench, the area would have been permeated with it in that moment. In truth, Nora almost wished they had a stench, then perhaps she would have detected the body she rammed into beforehand. Nora fell to the cement ground with a gasp, shocked by the sudden impact. She'd been concentrating on a cart several platforms down trying to make out a cage that might have had an owl in it, when she slammed into a tall, solid form. The form had sighed sharply before snapping, "Watch your feet," and followed by a fierce grip on her arm, pulled her up so swiftly she nearly lost her balance again.

When Nora finally was able to look at what she'd hit, she immediately felt like ice water had been dumped over her insides. The man was striking, in a frightening sort of way. Tall and aristocratic with pointed features. But his eyes were what made Nora freeze and her spine tingle. His eyes varied between blue chips of ice and gray steel. They glared at her fully. And while Nora stared at the man in awe, she quickly realized his eyes reflected disgust and annoyance, and eventually disregard. She'd held his attention for perhaps a full three seconds before he stalked off. But Nora continued to stare. He was dressed every bit like a Muggle, clothed in a very sharp suit. In his hand, a black cane shined ominously, topped with the head of a serpent about to strike, yet he didn't use the cane for support, but carried it tightly in his leather-gloved hands. His long blond hair was tied back with a simple black ribbon and his walk gave the distinct air of authority. He made her heart stop. And for a moment, she felt her knees go weak, for he halted and turned slowly in her direction. But he was looking past her.

"Hurry up," he hissed through partially clenched teeth.

Nora blinked and looked behind her. A blond woman of incredible beauty, but with a seemingly permanent expression of repulsion, walked briskly past her, followed by a boy around her own age who shared the obvious features of both his parents. A valet followed them, pushing a cart bearing magnificent trunks and a cage housing a majestic owl. Nora's interest was peaked at that and she watched the boy and his parents go to the platform between Nine and Ten.

"Nora!"

She started at her name being shouted and looked to Nan who pointed at the spot next to her. Nora sighed and returned to the cart, standing in the spot Nan indicated. But the whole time she kept an eye on the three people. The man shooed away the valet, who rolled his eyes upon turning around when he wasn't tipped. What happened next made Nora and Nan both gasp. The blond boy got behind his cart and ran with it towards a brick divider and proceeded to disappear into it. Nora looked to his parents, half-expecting them to be alarmed by this. But they simply followed him after, gliding smoothly into the divider.

Nora swallowed and nudged Nan. "I think _that's_ Platform Nine and Three Quarters."

---

Thank you for reading! Short, I know. But don't want to make the first one too awful long. The remaining chapters will be probably twice this. But first, is it junky? Should I even continue?


	2. Hogwarts

Thank you for your reviews, they were very helpful! I'll reply individually quite soon!

Chapter 2: Hogwarts

The sensation of sliding through brick was smoother than Nora would have expected. Quick and painless, for which she was relieved. They were certainly more fancy here than in Transylvania. Every year, a horse-pulled carriage came to her home to retrieve her for school. Two hours of uncomfortable bumps and jostling squished between other students was the expected mode of transportation. But here, a luxurious red train waited to escort them to Hogwarts.

Beside her, Nan gave a high-pitched "hmph!" in reply to it all. "I tell you it be here. We simply could not see it."

Nora humored her as she looked about. "You were right, Nan. It was just hiding."

"And _what_ did I tell you about fighting?"

Nora recognized the voice immediately and turned to the source a few feet away. The blond man had a rough grip on his son's collar and his expression was cold and grave. The boy however seemed completely indifferent and was instead staring at a girl with short brown hair, her nose in the air as she boarded the train. He answered casually, "Make sure there aren't any teachers around first."

Nora raised her eyebrows in surprise, expecting the boy's curt reply to earn him a cuff on the back of the head. But to her shock, the man loosened his grip on the boy's collar and pat him on the shoulder in a fatherly way. Nora felt her jaw droop a bit. Her admiration for the man was quickly turning into disgust. For she now saw the way in which he looked down his nose at everyone, and the posture he had didn't just emanate authority, but his absolute disregard for any other being besides his family unit. And Nora was now convinced that the cane in his hand had been used as a weapon at one time or another.

Then, to her horror, the man suddenly straightened and stiffened, slowly turning his head in her direction until he looked right at her. His gaze settled on her and Nora found she couldn't look away for a second. Her breathing quickened and she had that distinct feeling again of ice water drenching her insides. After a moment, she tore her eyes away and fixed them on a first year trying to catch his rabbit. The man smirked with satisfaction and returned his attention to his son, who at that moment was trying to bat away his mother's hands that were straightening his collar.

Nora shivered at what had just happened. It seemed as if he was looking right into her, through her even. Almost as if he _knew_. It took her another moment to compose herself and another to ignore the cold that drifted from her left.

"Nora, do you come?"

She shifted her eyes to Nan, who also seemed reluctant to do this. It was the first emotion she'd really shown to Nora's leaving. The woman had taken a hankie from her purse and dabbed at her eyes with some sense of shame, for she did it hoping Nora wouldn't see. A man called out, "Five minutes! Five minutes 'till departure!" and Nora felt her stomach do another flip-flop. Nora hauled her two trunks off the cart, securing Maximus to one of them. Then she turned to Nan, who had given up trying to hide her tears, her eyes red-rimmed and glossy.

"Oh, Nan," she said quietly, giving her a hug. The woman pat her back soothingly giving another little high-pitched, "hm!"

Finally, she broke the embrace and Nan squeezed her shoulders. "Remember, be good. Be lady. Do work. Talk to—"

"_Nobody_. Yes, Nan, I remember."

The woman pursed her rouged lips and indicated the train with a wave of her hankie. "Go now."

Nora lugged her trunks to the train, getting ready to pull them up when a figure knocked into her. Nora gasped, shocked by the rudeness as the blond boy dragged his trunks past her, one hitting her own causing Maximus' cage to rattle him awake. The boy didn't give her a backwards glance. More than a little miffed, Nora continued dragging her trunks up into the train, more students following suit. She was tempted to simply gather one of the trunks under her arm, her enhanced strength well equipped to manage such a thing, but of course she couldn't risk anyone knowing.

So she fought her way through the crowd, trying to find an empty compartment. Most of them had filled up by now, so she simply continued on, hoping to find one with the least amount of people. Up ahead, Nora saw the blond boy enter a compartment, greeted with a few claps and cheers from within. Nora walked by it without glancing inside. Reaching the last compartment, Nora peered through the window, seeing four others. A round-faced boy sat there with a morose frog in his lap with a pretty, redheaded girl next to him. On the other side sat a thin boy with round, black glasses and seemingly unmanageable black hair. The last occupant was a mousy looking girl reading a magazine upside down. Nora raised an eyebrow at the lot. Well, they seemed like a nice group, quiet enough. Just what she needed.

Nora slid open the compartment door, dragging her trunks in behind her. The boy with glasses had looked up sharply when she entered, but lowered his head almost immediately, like he'd been expecting someone and she certainly was not it. Nora offered a brief smile to the group, who was now looking at her with interest.

"Good morning," she tried to say pleasantly, "May I sit with you?"

The girl with the upside down magazine lightly tilted her head to the side, her wide, unblinking eyes studying her over the top of the magazine. The boy with the toad gawked at her shamelessly, his mouth slightly agape. The boy with glasses nodded and stood, reaching for one of her trunks.

The redheaded girl was the first to speak. "Sure, have a seat."

Nora smiled at the boy helping her store her trunks, thanking him as she put the cage with Maximus snugly on top of the luggage. He nodded at her saying, "Not a problem." That was when Nora noticed an odd scar on his forehead. It was lightning-shaped and gave her an unsettled feeling in her already trouble gut.

She held out her hand anyway. "I'm Nora."

He received it and shook her hand, smiling lopsidedly. "Harry," he pointed to the other boy, "That's Neville, Ginny, and...Luna." Neville smiled shyly and Ginny inclined her head and also smiled. Luna gave a somber bow of her head, her large butterbeer-cap earrings jingling at the motion.

"Pleasure to meet you all," Nora replied, taking a seat next to Harry, "What are all of your grades?"

They went to explain that Harry and Neville were both fifth years, like Nora, and Ginny and Luna were fourth years. The conversation seemed awkward and strained, as they all stared at her quizzically and Nora could feel herself reddening. She was used to being stared at, mostly accompanied by sneers and rude remarks, as the kids at her old school would do, but she didn't think she'd have to deal with that here.

"I—is something wrong?" She finally asked.

"You have a curious accent," Ginny said. Was that all it was? Her accent?

"Oh, I'm from Romania," Nora explained, pulling at her shirt and shifting in the seat, "I went to school there for four years."  
"Why did you transfer?" The boy Neville spoke for the first time, his nerve finally coming to him.

Nora had already planned the answers to the inevitable questions. "My family wants the best education for me, and the school in Transylvania was lacking. We'd heard a lot about Hogwarts and decided to try it."

"Your English is very good, for a foreigner," Luna's willowy voice spoke from behind her magazine.

"Oh...thank you. My mum is English."

The conversation died about there. Neville still looked over at her and Ginny twirled her bright red hair with a slender finger in boredom. Looking over at Harry, Nora motioned to him.

"I couldn't help but notice your scar, Harry," She tried to say delicately, "Are you..._the_ Harry? Harry Potter?"

He tore his gaze from the window and nodded humbly. "Yeah, I am."

Nora could tell he was expecting her to do something, whether it was to excessively praise him, or make some harsh comment against him. Nora had read about his adventures the year before, during the Triwizard Tournament. And what he claimed when he brought back the dead body of that young man, Cedric something. The young Harry Potter had claimed You-Know-Who was back and had tortured him, and killed Cedric. Nora hadn't really given her opinion on the matter. It was quite the story to make up if it weren't true, and how else could one explain the death of Cedric? Nora had decided she simply didn't want to know. But now she was sitting next to the very boy who'd been called insane and said needed treatment at St. Mungo's. Well, she was put into a state of mild shock. Harry seemed to realize this and nodded, looking away.

"I understand. You can think what you want." And that was all that was said on the matter.

After a few more minutes of silence, Neville straightened in his seat and began rummaging through his school bag. "I forgot! Look what my great-uncle gave me for my birthday," and Neville proceeded to bring out a small _Mimbulus Mimbletonia._ Nora felt her eyes widen in surprise. She knew about the rare plant, as Neville started to explain, and all the things it could do, her father had owned one and displayed it proudly in their library.

"Sure, it can do loads of stuff!" He said enthusiastically to answer Harry, who looked less than impressed with the plant.

Neville took out a quill and looked like he was about to poke the plant. Nora gasped and reached across the compartment to stop him. "No, don't—"

But it was too late and the plant sprayed black, sticky Stinksap over all the occupants. Sighing regretfully, Nora retrieved her wand. It seemed Ginny had the same idea, but Nora beat her to it and with a wave of her wand, said, "_Scourgify_!" In an instant, the Stinksap was gone. Ginny nodded appreciatively at Nora and the rest thanked her. Nora turned red again as she replaced her wand inside the pocket of her jean-jacket. Neville was staring at his plant like he still had Stinksap all over him.

Nora decided to break the silence again, though Nan would have greatly disapproved such a thing. But she was determined to have at least _one_ friend during the school year. "So what are the teachers like at Hogwarts?"

This seemed to be the right topic, for each of them contributed, describing the awkward Charms teacher, strict, but fair Transfiguration professor, and the greasy, cruel Potions master. When she asked about the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, they couldn't say enough good things about him. Nora's stomach was put slightly at ease from that. Meeting the Headmaster was going to be her first order of business once at Hogwarts. The matter of her condition had to be discussed.

"And what of the Defense Against the Dark Arts, class? I was told a werewolf taught it once," Nora asked with a sheepish grin.

Harry's features saddened some. "Yeah, Professor Lupin. The best DADA teacher we ever had. But he decided to leave before they could sack him."

At that moment, the lunch trolley came passing by, and each bought a hearty amount of food. They continued to answer Nora's questions about the school, giving her warnings about this and that, suggestions and such. Finally they explained the different houses. Nora knew there were four of them, but that was about it.

She discovered they were all Gryffindors except for Luna, who was a Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff and Slytherin were the remaining Houses. Nora thought she detected a sneer on their faces at the mention of Slytherin. Harry in particular.

Not long after that, the door to their compartment slid open and again, Harry looked up expectantly. This time he smiled as two people entered, a boy their age with fire-red hair like Ginny's, and a brown-haired girl with bright, inquisitive eyes came through the door. They were already in their robes and sported shiny badges with a "P" engraved on them. The redhead blinked at her and she thought there was some crimson creeping up behind his freckles.

"Hi there," He greeted, albeit awkwardly, and put out his hand, "Don't believe I've seen you before."

The girl behind him shook her head and sat on the other side of Neville. She smiled pleasantly at Nora. "I'm Hermione, and that's Ron." Ron was still shaking her hand as he sat down next to her. Harry took to explaining some about Nora; they also seemed interested in her Romanian roots.

"My brother's in Romania," Ron said as he helped himself to Harry's stash of chocolate frogs, "He's studying the dragons there. Have you ever come across a wild dragon?"

Nora almost wanted to tell them about the things more frightening than wild dragons that she'd encountered over the years. But she kept quiet about it, as she always did. Hermione seemed near to bursting to tell something, so Nora let the conversation drop for a new one to start. Hermione grasped the opportunity.

"All the new Prefects were at the meeting. Care to take a stab at Slytherin?"

Harry groaned. "Malfoy."

"And Parkinson." Hermione spat.

Apparently these were spiteful people. And Nora couldn't help but picture the blond boy at the train station. "Malfoy...is he blond? Pointed nose?"

Ron stuffed the rest of his chocolate frog in his mouth, his eyes clouded with anger. "That's 'im all right. How'd you meet him?" He asked with his mouth quite full.

Nora shrugged. "He shoved me aside getting on the train. His face was difficult to forget. And he seemed a tad like..."

"A wanker?" Ron finished for her, gulping the last of his chocolate.

Nora smirked. "In so many words, yes."

"Well now he's a wanker with power," Harry pointed out glumly, "which you know he'll take any chance to abuse."

The sky outside darkened and according to the others, that meant they were close to Hogwarts. Excluding Ron and Hermione, everyone retrieved their robes and donned them. Nora took care to cover her arms quickly, hoping no one saw the long shock of scratches up and down her pale skin. She sat back down relieved and convinced no one had seen. But she had the all-too familiar feeling of being stared at and she shifted her gaze to Hermione who held her stare for only a second before turning to Ginny.

"So you're fifteen then?" Ron's voice from next to her pulled her attention from Hermione.

"Actually I'm sixteen," Nora smiled as Ron's eyebrows hiked up a tad, "My old school only admitted those over twelve. They don't trust children with magic."

The train then noticeably slowed down and light from the great towers of Hogwarts twinkled in the darkness. Nora felt her insides churn again. In just a few minutes, her life would be completely different from the one she'd always known.

_But in a _good _way._ She reminded herself.

A swarm of students made there way out of the train once it stopped, Ron and Hermione going first to overlook, as their prefect duties required. The night was cold and wet and mist hung over a giant lake not far off. Frightened first years stared wide-eyed at their surroundings, their eyes bulging even more when a booming voice called them over to him.

"Firs' years! This way!"

This was apparently the half-giant Nora had heard about. The man was massive, easily twice as tall as the average man. He wore a musty moleskin overcoat and gigantic boots. He had brown, scraggly hair that reached his shoulders, accompanied by a bushy beard. The only parts of his face you could see were his twinkling eyes and large nose.

Nora continued to follow her new acquaintances out into the night, when Hermione appeared in front of Nora.

"You'll have to be sorted into your house," She said matter-of-factly, "You should go with the first years."

Nora made a short, incredulous laugh. Go with the little kids? Her amusement was lost when Hermione wasn't smiling. "Are you serious?"

Ron and Harry had stopped, also looking at Hermione oddly. "Hermione, she can come with us," Ron said, his brows drawn in.

"This is her first year here. So technically, she's a first year. It'll only be until she's sorted."

Ron looked like he wanted to counter this, but Nora interrupted him. "It's all right. I'll go."

Hermione nodded, looking almost too satisfied as she did an about-face and followed the other students. Nora was rapidly disliking the girl, getting the distinct feeling that she was trespassing on her territory...meaning perhaps _her_ friends. Harry and Ron shrugged, both looking apologetic, but Nora just gave a small wave before treading reluctantly over to the first years, who had gathered around the giant. The latter looked down at her with beetle-black eyes, which narrowed in curiosity.

"This 'ere is fir firs' years, lass."

The group of eleven-year-olds looked up at her oddly and Nora felt her cheeks warm, despite the cold. "Yes, I know. I've been transferred to this school, and I have to be sorted into my house. I was told to go with the first years."

The man gave a silent "Oh" of understanding and shrugged. "Well then, there should be room in th' boats for yeh. Come along, everybody!"

Nora followed the nervous children as they neared the lake where several boats bobbed in the water without restraints. Nora got into one with a little girl with wild blond curls that looked as if she was about puke, and two gaunt twin boys who both sniffed loudly and rubbed their noses far too often for comfort. The boats glided across the lake effortlessly, despite the harsh wind that stirred the water's surface. Nora folded her arms tightly across her chest in attempt to keep out the early cold. Before long, they passed the castle and into a cave where a harbor led to great stone steps, where rested an impressive door. All were instructed by the man to get out and follow him. The great door opened before they got there, where an older witch seemed to have been waiting for them. She looked strict and grim, but curious, peering out over them beneath the rim of her great pointed hat. The man nodded at her, "Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. This way," She motioned to the students. They followed her into an enormous hall, even bigger than the entrance hall at Nora's old home, the massive, cold castle she and her father had lived in only a year ago. She ignored the nostalgia that decided to nudge her and continued to follow the students to a staircase, where the witch stopped abruptly. She opened her mouth to speak when she seemed to notice Nora for the first time. She looked at her skeptically.

"And you are?" She asked politely.

Nora shifted her weight to her other foot nervously, knowing all eyes were on her again. "I'm a transfer, ma'am. Nora Kerensky, fifth year."

The professor's eyes suddenly lightened in understanding. "Oh, yes, I remember. But why are you with the first years?"

Nora ignored the scattered, stifled giggles from some of the kids. "I was told to...for the Sorting...into my house..." Nora's voice eventually turned into nothing, as the professor still didn't seem to think she should have come with the first years.

"Oh—well, you could have joined the others at a table before I called you, but no matter, you're here now."

Nora only half-listened to what McGonagall said next. She went on to explain the houses, house cups and the point system. But Nora was thinking about that Hermione character. What did she have against her? Were she and Ron "together" and was she miffed that Ron had been taken with her? Her thoughts drifted to the houses. Gryffindor seemed the ideal house, and Slytherin appeared to be its opposite. Since she was already acquainted with mostly Gryffindors, she was hoping for that house. Anyplace that accepted people like that Malfoy had to be less than desirable, to her at least.

Soon enough, they were moving again towards enormous double doors. When they were opened, a great din greeted them as the rest of the students were at four long tables in another gigantic room. Nora, already feeling foolish, followed the first years as they queued into the hall. She knew she must have looked ridiculous, she being about five and a half feet tall amongst all the smaller children. Many of the students already seated stared at her blankly, some hiding smiles, others just blatantly laughed. Nora hung her head. This was what she was used to. The old feelings of resentment came to be familiar to her again and she clenched her fists, keeping her eyes glued to the stone floor, not even noticing the cloudy sky that bewitched the ceiling.

When she finally did look up, the professor had brought out a stool and placed it in front of a long table where an assortment of adults sat, more teachers, Nora assumed. She took the opportunity to look about the room for her acquaintances. Ron's shock of red hair was difficult to miss, and Harry and Hermione sat on either side of him. The boys caught her gaze and smiled comfortingly at her. Hermione looked down at her empty golden plate.

McGonagall then brought out an old, torn, pointed hat and sat it on the stool. Nora had been told on the train what the Sorting Ceremony consisted of. But she simply couldn't imagine that something so dirty and useless had the ability to talk. But after a moment, and a hushed silence came over the room, the hat opened a ripped seam and, startling Nora and the rest of the first years, broke out into a long song, explaining the houses and all the qualities each required. When it was done, McGonagall unraveled a scroll and started calling off names. Each student went timidly to the chair, placing the hat on their heads. Sometimes within seconds, the hat would exclaim one of the house names. It proceeded like this until the last student was called.

"Zeller, Rose." The girl was sorted to Hufflepuff. Which left Nora standing there, all the students gawking at her.

"Ah, and last but not least, our Romanian transfer," McGonagall introduced her, "Kerensky, Eleanor."

Nora squeezed her eyes shut at the mention of her full name. Some low murmurs rippled throughout the hall as Nora stepped brazenly up to the stool, yet eyeing the hat warily. The thought of such an appalling thing sitting on her head made her scrunch her nose before gingerly plucking it from the stool. She half-expected it to move or twitch when she touched it, but it stayed as lifeless as a normal hat should. In one swift motion, she placed it on her head as she sat down on the stool. She started when it whispered in her ear, yet no one else seemed to be able to hear it, for which Nora was most thankful.

_My, my, what do we have here? A half-breed? And such an unusual one at that. You carry a curious mix in your blood—pure blood, oh yes, very potent indeed. Dark blood it is though. You belong in _"SLYTHERIN!"

Nora hardly had time to register what the hat screamed out to the masses when its weight was lifted from her head and the table where Malfoy sat erupted in cheers. The rest of the tables clapped politely. Nora just sat there in shock, her mouth agape, when a cold hand pat her on the shoulder.

"Go and join your peers, Miss Kerensky," McGonagall's stern voice instructed, her hand indicating the table that was filled with a number of unsavory characters.

Nora opened her mouth to say, "I think there's some mistake, Professor," but only a pathetic gasp of air escaped her. Nora stood shakily from the stool and walked over to the table bearing kids who resembled all the worst bullies at her old school. How could the Sorting Hat have thought this was where she belonged? Was it just based on her blood? Sure, her ancestors did some evil things, and her father had only reformed himself in the past fifteen years, but was that enough to place her here? A rather round second year boy moved aside at the end of the bench to give her room when she reached it. Nora gripped the edge of the table as she sat down, certain she would have splinters if she held on any harder. She then let her eyes roam over her house occupants. Most of them were simply frightening to look at. They were either sneering or smirking wickedly. Some looked at her in interest and gave her a smile that looked as if they were congratulating her on murdering someone rather than welcoming her. She immediately spotted the Malfoy kid and he nodded at her with something lurid in his eyes. Nora felt a frightening trickle of ice work its way up and down her spine when he looked at her like that.

Nora barely registered the Headmaster welcoming everyone and she only realized a great variety of food had appeared around her when the aroma assaulted her nose. Nora took a chance and glanced across the room to the Gryffindor table. Several of the people she'd met on the train were staring at her. Neville and Ginny looked sympathetic while Harry and Ron had a mix between confusion and...distrust? Hermione however looked downright shocked. And when she saw that Nora was looking at her, the girl hurriedly grasped a dinner roll and stuffed it in her mouth, bringing her eyes to her plate again.

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Well I suppose now I should ask if it's worth continuing? I do ask for reviews!


	3. Life of a Slytherin

**A/N**: Hmmm, this is rather pathetically short of me now that I look at it. But if I were to combine it with chapter 4, it would be about 7500 words, which for my taste is too large for fanfiction chapters I think. But since it's so short, the next chapter will be uploaded in two days.

Thank you so so much for everyone's fabulous, helpful reviews!

Chapter 3: Life of a Slytherin

Feeling a particular aversion to food that night, Noraput notthing on her plate besides some chicken and vegetables. She avoided everyone at her table and everyone ignored her. When dinner vanished and dessert appeared, Nora just chose a treacle tart, eating it, but not really tasting it. Unfortunately, she finished well before everyone else and that left her to staring at her plate, concentrating on the crumbs the tart had left on it.

"So you're from Romania, are you?" Nora recognized the haughty voice and shifted her gaze from her plate to the pointed, cold features of Malfoy. She now plainly saw the mix of his parents in him. Mostly from his father, having the same indifferent, rigid gray/blue eyes. Though his face was longer, like his mother. He had left his seat and stood behind a girl Nora recognized from the train station, the girl Malfoy had been transfixed with. She sat across from Nora and a few seats down. She also had a prefect badge and a scowl to accompany it. What name had Hermione said? Parkinson was it?

"Yes, I am," She answered icily.

"Do they even have a school there?" Malfoy demanded to know, "Never heard of one."

"Yes, in Transylvania. I don't expect you to have known it. It's very small."

"And out-dated, I'd bet. Crusty old country like that one, it was in the backwoods I'm sure."

Norafelt the ever familiar rush of blood to her cheeks.She may not have been fond of her old school but now he was insulting her homeland. "Have you ever been to Romania?"

"No."

"Then I won't fault you for your ignorance on the matter. Old and remote my country is, but my people handled far worse creatures than your Lord Voldemort."

The kids in her immediate area grew silent and turned to her in surprise, some in shock at the mention of the tabooed name. To Nora's astonishment, an arrogant grin spread slowly across the boy's pale face. He came around the table to her and stuck out his hand.

"Draco Malfoy."

Nora stared at his hand with its well-trimmed nails like it was a brandished dagger. After a moment, she accepted the handshake, feeling her stomach drop hoping none of her Gryffindor friends were watching their exchange.

"Nora," she offered, her tone flat.

"Welcome to Slytherin," He said with a hint of mystery behind it as he dropped her hand.

When Malfoy returned to his seat, Nora leaned her crossed arms on the table, feeling much like a lost puppy. Bored and dejected she occupied herself with studying the teachers who satat the long table at the top wall of the Hall. She recognized most of them by the descriptions she'd been given and was amused and pleased to see how accurate they were. Pleased that is until she came to the unmistakable Professor Snape. The man was downright depressing to look at. Greasy black hair, black robes, and a sickly pale, disgruntled face. His abysmall, lifeless eyes peered at everyone over his goblet, eventually coming to her. Nora blinked and looked away. This man was her new Head of House, whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, she couldn't know for sure. But after observing all the restin her house, she didn't expect much better from Snape.

Nora suddenly felt an extreme cold near her face and she gave a sidelong glance to her right, shocked to see a cloudy white obscuring the large boy next to her. Looking up, a grumpy-looking ghost hovered next to her, not even paying attention to her. But one look at the silver blood on his clothes and Nora had a general idea of what he was in life. For a terrifying moment, she thought he might recognize his fellow kind, even if she was only half, they had a way of knowing when others were around. But he seemed to ignore her and moved swiftly past her to greet a ghost from the Ravenclaw table.

Soon after, the dessert disappeared and the plates were sparkling and clean. Professor Dumbledore stood again, his great white beard unfolding down his torso. He simplytalkedabout the prohibitions of entering the Forbidden Forest and news of Quidditch try-outs. The students were then dismissed, a hubbub of shuffling feet and benches creating quite the racket in the Great Hall as students filed out to their dormitories.

Malfoy, with a great show of boredom and irritation, called the Slytherin first years to him to be directed to Slytherin dorms. A sly voice came from directly behind Nora as the girl called Parkinson stood next to her.

"Magnificent, isn't he?" She motioned with her head to Malfoy, a whimsical look in her eye. Nora didn't answer, but the girl seemed to take this as a yes, for her face twisted in anger and she hissed, "Stay away from him, Kerensky. He's mine." With that, she stuck her nose in the air and joined him in leading the first years away.

Nora stood there for a moment, blinking in wonder. The girls were certainly territorial around here. Reminded of her Gryffindor friends, if they would even consider her a friend now, she peered around the room for them, finally spotting Harry alone, Ron and Hermione leading their first years past him toward the dormitories. Nora made her way over to Harry who didn't notice her until she stood next to him. He again gave her a look she couldn't identify. Something between confusion and distrust. Nora found she wasn't sure what to say and her mouth hung open stupidly. Harry spoke first.

"Did you enjoy the feast?" He asked with false enthusiasm. He seemed to also notice the lack of sincerity in his own voice and lowered his eyes in shame. It seemed he was at a loss for words as well.

"Harry, I—I didn't expect to be put in Slytherin," she murmured truthfully, "It was the farthest from what I wanted."

Harry fixed his concentration on a painting that was having an argument with its partner in the frame. "I have to say, I didn't expect it. You seem too...nice."

Nora supposed she could take that as a compliment. She was fairly certain why she was placed in Slytherin. Her blood spoke volumes.

"But you know," Harry halted, almost reluctant to continue, "I—when I was sorted, the hat wanted to put me...you know...there."

Nora blinked, giving Harry a once-over. He smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, well, I was kinda shocked at first. But I just kept thinking, 'not Slytherin' over and over. The hat told me I'd be powerful there, but decided to put me in Gryffindor instead, obviously."

"Hey, Kerensky!"

Nora jolted and shot her head around to see Malfoy, whose eyes shot daggers at Harry. "You should come with us," He spoke to her, but his eyes remained on  
Harry, "So you know where the dormitories are."

Nora nodded slightly at Malfoy, turning to Harry. "I should go. I'll see you around?" She asked hopefully. Harry bobbed his head yes, bidding her goodnight.

Malfoy didn't say anything to her about talking to Harry, but she got a sense he didn't like it one bit. He shot annoyed glances at her during their walk to Slytherin quarters, which, toNora's mildl surprise, wasa bare, stone wall.

"_Snake venom_." Malfoy muttered.

A stone door, completely undetectable to anyone passing, slid open revealing a dark tunnel. Malfoy and Parkinson led the way with Nora and the first years trailing behind them. The tunnel opened up into the Slytherin common room. It was somewhat depressing, heavy forest-green curtains hung at tall, Gothic windows which looked out to nothing. Large greenish lamps hung from the ceiling, casting the room into an odd glow. The impressive fireplace offered a warm blaze with several overstuffed chairs surrounding it, some older years already occupying them. A few portraits had some disgruntled figures in them who regarded the first years with upturned noses. All in all, the room was plain dreary. No one else seemed to mind.

Malfoy pointed out the girls' and boys' dorms then harshly ordered the first years to bed. Nora looked about for anything interesting to do. Friends chatted with each other, a pair had started a game of wizard's chess. It was only about nine-thirty, but with nothing to do, and the company lacking, Nora decided to turn in.

"Going off already?"

Nora turned from the dark doorway to see Malfoy coming up to her, his two meaty, goonish friends behind him. "It's been a long day."

Malfoy elbowed the fattest of the two friends and that apparently was a signal for them to leave. Now alone, he then crossed his arms, closing the space between them a little tighter than she would have liked. His expression gave away nothing, except a slight twitch in the muscle above his eyebrow. "I saw you talking to Potter," he spat, giving particular venom to the boy's name, "Become a fan, have you?"

Nora raised a delicate, dark brow. "What does it matter if I spoke to him?"

Malfoy recoiled like someone had slapped him. "What does it matter?" He hissed. His voice was low, but it made no secret of his fury, "He's a prat! Relishes in his fame when he's done nothing to earn it!"

Nora batted her eyes innocently. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. From what I've heard, he's accomplished quite a bit here the past few years."

Wanting the conversation to end, she turned to leave, but she was jerked back when an iron grip snatched her wrist. She moved to twist out of it, but the thin boy was surprisingly strong. She looked up at his face, which was now disturbingly close, their noses nearly touching. She gave a glance to the room, but they were in a darkened corner and everyone was occupied. Nora looked back to Malfoy, noticing his expression had darkened from arrogance to plain rage.

"I'm going to give you a break since you're new and foreign," though his tone suggested anything but mercy, "But just remember, to be a Slytherin means having certain allies and certain enemies. Do _not_ let me catch you fraternizing with that bastard unless you're giving him a good tongue-lashing."

Her lips tightened into a thin line and she nodded stiffly, tugging at her wrist. He blinked and glanced down before slinking his eyes back to her in that lurid way she'd despised earlier. "Sweet dreams," he breathed. He let her wrist go, turning smoothly and heading to the center of the room. He flopped down on the couch next to Parkinson who practically shoved away the friend she'd been talking with to latch onto his arm and grin in sick delight.

Nora massaged her wrist, looking down and making out, even in the shadows, the red marks where his hand had gripped her. Rubbing her wrist, she turned, pushing the heavy door open and taking the spiral staircase down to the girls' dorms.

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Reviews, especially helpful ones, are very much appreciated!


	4. Day One

A/N: Many thanks for everyone's very helpful reviews!

Chapter 4: Day One

Nora had arisen early, before any of the other four girls in the room. Her night had been restless, as it always was for her. She usually only had three or so hours of sleep. Half of this was due to her condition, now the other half was plain nerves. She'd pretended to be asleep when the other girls came into their room the night before. She soon wished she had been sleeping, for what they'd said nearly brought her to tears:

"_What a rat-nosed wench, I cannot _believe _she was sorted into Slytherin."_

"_Did you hear the way she answered Draco? He was only asking about her school!"_ Nora had recognized Parkinson's voice immediately.

"_Oh, I know, I don't think anybody besides Potty mouth has ever spoken to him like that."_

"_Yeah, and then Draco turned on the charm, did you see how she looked at him?"_

"_I've already warned her to stay away, the dumpy whore."_

_"Oh, don't worry, Pansy. Draco only has those eyes for you. If he actually wanted someone like that cow, then you should be looking for someone else anyway."_

It went on like thus for several more minutes. Each of them harshly critiquing her looks until Nora was convinced they knew she was awake. After they'd gone to sleep, she'd spent the rest of the night just mulling over her bad luck. Her first attempt at making real friends had once again been quashed and she was stuck with the most rotten students in the school. Yep, sounded just like her usual luck.

When the grandfather clock in the common room gonged twelve times, Nora thought about all that had happened in the past year. Her father's disappearance, the raids, the kids at her old school, and how they stared at her. She was fairly certain they had all known, or at least had an idea. The abruptness in her father's departure during the heat of the raids was enough to stir rumors. Nora sighed thinking of her father once more. Nan had promised he'd kept correspondence with her, but she never showed Nora any letters. As the months passed, she'd gradually come to accept that her father had fled for Russia or the States. He'd talked about visiting both. Nora bit her lip at the other possibility; one she'd fleetingly entertained but refused to believe. She simply couldn't exercise the possibility that he might be...she swallowed tears, unable to even think the word.

When her clock read four, her memories drifted to her summer in India and the one friend she'd made there—Reeza. Reeza was an energetic, untraditional young woman who'd become a big sister to her. Despite having a friend, it was a difficult summer. Usually she'd spend the season with her father in Budapest, where the climate was fair. India, with its unbearable sun and scorching temperatures made everyday-life dreadful.

Six o'clock came too soon and Nora arose before any of the other girls and hit the showers. She would always have to get ready first. She couldn't let anyone see her arms. She hurriedly dressed in her robes, running a brush through her wavy, shoulder-length raven hair. She studied her reflection after she applied mascara and thin lines of eyeliner. She always searched for her mother in her features, wishing she could remember her alive. Her mother's startling, sea-green eyes stared back at her, walnut in shape. She also had her smart little nose and inviting lips. Her smooth, pale skin and black crown of hair came from her father, who had long before crossed over when she'd been conceived. Both of her parents were fit people and had passed on such traits to Nora, which she wasn't happy nor sad about. She always wondered that if she'd been plumper, perhaps people would have treated her better, not like the half-breed she was.

She didn't think she was particularly pretty, though her father had never missed the opportunity to tell her of her beauty. But she knew he was picturing her mother when he looked at her. Nora had once asked Reeza if she thought she, "could ever be pretty." Reeza had dipped her head knowingly, giving her an incredulous glare. Nora had never forgotten what she'd said, "You are not only gorgeous, but have a pair of hips Brittany Spears would kill you for." At the time, Nora hadn't really understood this, Reeza being a Muggle who knew as much about the Wizarding world as Nora knew about the Muggle one. But she assumed it to be a compliment.

Nora nonchalantly slid out of the lavatory when other girls started trickling in, each looking like they could have used an extra hour of sleep. Back in her dorm, Nora gathered the books she'd need for the day. She had Charms with Professor Flitwick and the Hufflepuffs first, then Potions with the Gryffindors, lunch, and History of Magic with Professor Binns (a ghost, apparently). But first, she had a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore at eight o'clock, a half-hour before breakfast.

Nora swung the strap of her black leather messenger bag over her shoulder and darted past a couple girls who glared at her accusingly as she entered the sparsely populated common room and briskly made for the dark corridor out into the hallways. As it turned out, the directions she'd been given by Harry on the train were faulty. That or the walls moved around in this place. Nora started getting exasperated when she'd been looking for fifteen minutes, making it eight o'clock, and she seemed no closer to Dumbledore's office.

She scuttled around corners and jogged down corridors, running into no one. That was until she turned one particular corner and slammed into a tall figure. It was instant déjà vu as she fell on her bum, her Charms book sliding out of her bag and slapping to the cement floor. When she saw the black shoes peeking under black robes, Nora thought for a second that it might have been Mr. Malfoy. But as her gaze traveled up, it didn't land on cold, gray eyes, but black lifeless ones. Professor Snape looked down at her like she was an exceptionally nasty bug that had just bounced off his chest. After a moment, he bent down and Nora gratefully put out her hand, but his went right past her and picked up her Charms book, holding it out.

"I dare say this belongs to you?" He drawled, his greasy black hair framing a small space for his features.

Slightly abashed, Nora picked herself up, hurriedly brushing off her robes and grasped her bag, which decided to turn the wrong way and empty the rest of its contents to the floor. Nora squeaked and sat on her heels to gather the fallen items. Snape stood motionless, her Charms book still in his pale hand.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I'm in a terrible rush," she babbled as she hurriedly stuffed her books into her bag, "I—I have to meet Dumbledore and I've gotten the wrong directions and I'm already ten minutes late, and—you wouldn't happen to know how to get there, would you, sir?" She finished breathlessly.

The look Snape gave her was the same bored expression he had the night before as his eyes had wandered pointlessly about the room. The muscles in his grim face finally worked as he spoke, "Keep down this hall and look for the statue of the gargoyle." He explained it all very dully and through nearly clenched teeth, like her very presence was annoying to him.

Nora nodded, processing the information. "An—and the password?"

He stared at her smugly, distrusting her. "_Fizzing Wizbee_," he replied, emphasizing each word. For an odd reason, it was amusing to see such a serious person speak such ridiculous words, but Nora merely tightened her lips to hide her smile and nodded her head.

"Right, thank you, Professor," She eyed the book still in his hand, "C—could I possibly..." She let the sentence trail off and motioned to her Charms book. Snape lowered his eyes to the book clutched in his hand. He then looked at her as if it were her fault he had to stand there holding it and he thrust it into her hands. He then breezed past her, his robes billowing behind him.

Nora felt slightly put off by the encounter as she readjusted the strap of her messenger bag. Soon forgetting it, Nora paid attention to the walls, searching for the gargoyle. It didn't take long to find, as it stood out well enough.

"_Fizzing Wizbee_." She murmured a tad uncertainly. To her pleasure, the statue slid aside to reveal a hidden door, which Nora went through to discover spiral stairs that moved slowly upward. Once at the modest wooden door, Nora knocked, hoping the Headmaster wouldn't be too annoyed by her tardiness. She didn't think she could bear it if she didn't have at least _one_ ally in this school.

Her fears were slightly abated when a friendly voice from other side of the door beckoned her in. Taking a deep breath and running a hand quickly through her hair, Nora took the handle and pushed the door open. Her eyes widened at the size of the office, its walls were circular and covered nearly completely in portraits of past headmasters, all whom looked like they'd just awoken and rubbed their eyes to get a better look at her. Nora regarded them nervously. She didn't expect there to be an audience during her meeting with Dumbledore. Even if they were just pictures, they could visit others...

She turned her attention from the portraits that were now murmuring indistinctly to each other. To describe Dumbledore's office fully would be impossible. Many interesting things were placed smartly around the room, several of the objects completely foreign to her, including delicate silver instruments that emitted puffs of smoke every once and a while and quite a few odd artifacts. Bookshelves were everywhere to see, housing enough volumes to nearly put the library in her old home to shame. The Headmaster's desk sat further forward on clawed feet. A great, beautiful phoenix slept on its perch behind the desk, its head tucked in its feathers. Two comfortable chairs were placed opposite the desk, which Dumbledore sat behind, his hand still holding a quill, as he was doing some sort of work before she came in. He looked up at her, his blue eyes twinkling, the crows feet around those orbs quite prominent as he smiled at her over his half-moon spectacles.

"Ah, Miss Kerensky. I take it you got lost?" He stood politely, motioning to the chairs.

Color rose in Nora's cheeks and she bit her lip before dropping heavily into a chair, Dumbledore following her action, albeit much slower.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Professor. The directions I got weren't exactly accurate."

He smiled kindly, putting his work aside. "I'm sure they were quite accurate. But as you'll come to realize, things tend to move about around here."

Nora blinked. That was _true_?

"Now, did you enjoy you first night at Hogwarts?"

Nora at first was at a loss for words, but forced a quick smile on her face that he would surely detect the phoniness behind. "Oh, Hogwarts is certainly a magnificent place, sir."

"You are not satisfied with your House?" He didn't really pose it as a question, but as a startling fact.

Again, Nora wasn't sure how to answer without insulting this man's school. "W—well, it was not my first choice—"

"You detest Slytherin." Dumbledore said it so casually that Nora nearly missed the seriousness behind the statement.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say I _detest_ it, it's just different—"

"You were hoping for Gryffindor?"

Nora lowered her head. "Sir, I wondered why the hat," and at that moment, she caught sight of it sitting motionless atop a shelf and she paused, "...why the hat decided Slytherin to be the best place for me."

Dumbledore smiled again in understanding, crossing his fingers on the desk. "The hat chose the correct House if you were looking to strengthen your skills to their absolute best. The skills and traits you inherited from your father."

Nora figured so much, but it still didn't seem right. "But, sir, I don't believe I fit into Slytherin very well."

"Socially, no, that would not be the best place for you. But the hat does not place you based on your demeanor. Though it seems quite the coincidence that the students in Slytherin tend to be more...aggressive in nature."

_What you mean is nasty, foul, vicious, son of a bi—_

"But in this case, I think Slytherin is in fact best for you."

Nora's brutal train of thought came to an abrupt halt as she stared unblinkingly at the Headmaster. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know for many years you were...abused at your old school," Nora hastily looked away and concentrated on the gleaming crimson feathers of the phoenix behind him, "With so many secrets flying about and no answers to what you truly were, I imagine it was quite unbearable." He described the horrendous experience so delicately, she almost wanted to lash out and scream about all the things done to her. But she stayed silent and allowed him to continue. "The time has now come for you to strengthen your defenses. You have a clean slate here, Miss Kerensky. None of the students know a thing of your past. This is a second chance for you. Being subjected to a host of ordeals in Slytherin will serve you well, I think."

Nora didn't argue with him, but internally she was still certain she'd be much happier in Gryffindor. After an uncomfortable pause, Dumbledore went on to explain that all her grades from her previous school had been successfully transferred and her new teachers all said they were eager to have another bright student. Nora had a difficult time imagining Snape saying this though. As Potions was her worst class and she'd had to fight for an "Acceptable" during each course.

"Now we come to the matter of your condition."

A flurry of whispers passed through the portraits around her, but she ignored them. Dumbledore brought an impressive goblet onto the desk, pushing it across to her. "You will have to pass a simple test before I have complete faith in you."

Nora stared at the empty goblet cagily. Dumbledore took a wand from the inside of his robes and lightly touched the rim of the goblet. Thick, smooth blood seemed to grow from the inside of the goblet, rising until he took his wand away. He motioned to it lightly. "Take a taste."

Nora glanced at his unperturbed face warily. "H—how would I fail the test, sir?"

"You'll be unable to stop."

Internally, Nora's uncertainty deflated. Was that all? She gingerly took the goblet in both hands, bringing the rim to her lips. It had been several years since she was allowed to Drink, she wasn't exactly sure what to expect. She took a careful sip and immediately her taste buds awoke and buzzed with ecstasy. Taking a gulp, she inwardly relished in the feeling of the smooth, warm nectar sliding down her throat. Her closed eyes were the only indication of her satisfaction. Not wanting to fail the test, she reluctantly pulled the goblet away, replacing it on the desktop. She could feel the warmth of it on her upper lip and she delicately licked it away, savoring the last taste of it on her tongue. Nora came back to reality when the taste was gone, now almost afraid to look at Dumbledore, uncertain if he knew how enjoyable it was for her.

But he had gotten out his wand and again tapped the goblet, the remaining blood soaking into the sides of the goblet. Another tap and the cup vanished. He looked to her and smiled genuinely. "Just as I thought. Now, the issue with sunlight?"

Nora breathed a little sigh of relief. "I'm all right as long as I'm not in the strongest, direct light. I don't melt, but I tend to get nasty hives and sometimes boils. Midday is the worst."

"Of course. Your only outdoor classes will be Care of Magical Creatures, which will be..." Dumbledore consulted some papers off to the side, "in the later afternoons of Tuesday and Thursday, and Herbology is typically in the greenhouse."

"That will be fine, thank you. Professor, does the rest of the faculty know about, well, as you put it, my condition?"

Dumbledore readjusted his spectacles on his long crooked nose, giving a barely audible sigh. "I thought it best to leave out that detail. I trust all of my teachers explicitly, but it is no secret that those of your kind tend to make people...uncomfortable," Nora marveled at his tactful tone, "I did not think you would want to be treated any differently than the other students."

Nora hurriedly shook her head. "No, sir, I mean yes sir, I would like to be treated the same as everyone else."

His mouth stretched into a grandfatherly smile as he stood, triggering Nora to stand as well. "Now then, I hear the house elves have prepared a special batch of cheese blintzes. Wouldn't want to miss out, I assure you."

At the mention of food, Nora's stomach gave an involuntary growl as if agreeing with Dumbledore. The blood had served to only warm her gut pleasantly for the moment, since it was such a small amount. But now breakfast sounded most splendid, despite the company she'd have. Nora reached across the desk and shook Dumbledore's hand. "Thank you, Professor, for everything."

Breakfast was a morose affair. She had indeed missed the blintzes and there was only some cold eggs and overcooked bacon left. Half of the students had already left, as all classes started promptly at nine, which gave Nora ten minutes to eat her pathetic repast and gulp down a cup of lukewarm tea. No one said anything to her; even Malfoy ignored her completely as Pansy paid an extra amount of attention to him. Nora couldn't help but be grateful for this. She found she could only take small doses of Slytherin attitude a day.

After hurrying through breakfast, Nora gathered her bags and followed the fifth year Slytherins to Charms. Professor Flitwick proved to be an entertaining teacher, at least to her. He was a delightful little man (indeed little, he had to stand on a stack of books) though a bit nervous in demeanor. They were to practice Summoning charms, as their O.W.L.s were bound to test them on this. Most of the students groaned at the overload in homework he instructed, but Nora was too pleased with her first class to be bogged down by the thought of staying up late to complete her assignments.

But unfortunately, it took only one class to quell Nora's newfound bliss. The fact that Potions was in a dungeon was enough to make her nervous. She was willing to put aside the fact that Professor Snape seemed a tad moody. She'd been hoping he simply wasn't a morning person and the dark mood he'd been in that morning was temporary. She could not have been more wrong. If possible, his mood had spiraled into something terribly worse.

Nora was the first to get to class, right when the previous students were leaving. She maneuvered through a pack of pale-stricken first years who exited the classroom looking like they'd been forced to swallow a can of worms. Some of them jumped upon seeing her, simply because she herself was pale, raven-haired, and wearing dark robes, not completely unlike the professor. At the time, Nora couldn't understand why everyone disliked Snape. He wasn't the friendliest of people by no means, but quiet, and that was what she'd expected upon having that first class.

Nora caught the closing door of the classroom as the last of the students scurried out and she entered swiftly. She was immediately assaulted with the smell of spices and something sour—undoubtedly a student's potion gone-wrong. Professor Snape stood at his desk, his back to her as he gathered vials with samples of potions from the last class. Nora wasn't sure if she should say anything, so she simply sat down in the last row, putting her bag on her lap. The scraping of her chair on the stone floor alerted Snape that there was someone else in the room and his head turned to her sharply. She offered a brief smile of greeting.

"Good morning, Professor."

His eyes flickered to the clock high on the wall. There was still ten minutes left until the next class, obviously he was wondering why she was here early. He continued placing the vials on a shelf behind his desk. "Are you unable to tell time, Miss..."

"Kerensky," she said uncertainly, "And yes I can, but company was lacking."

He raised a dark eyebrow cynically. "And you expected to converse with me?" He retorted dryly.

Nora looked away. Indeed she'd been interested in what the infamous Potions Master would be like, also since he was her Head of House she thought it prudent to at least try and get to know him.

"I had nothing to do, sir—I didn't think you'd mind an early student."

"Do not ever..._assume_ what I may or may not think, Miss Kerensky." He replied softly.

Nora wasn't wholly sure how to answer this so she bowed her head and wrestled her potions textbook from her bag, trying to appear completely unruffled by his comment. Once that was done, Nora found herself twiddling her thumbs. She glanced at the clock. Precisely three minutes had passed. From what she'd heard, students avoided Potions until the very last minute. That meant approximately 6 more long minutes alone with this man. She shifted in her seat, the chair eliciting a loud creak. Snape slowly looked up from the papers he'd had his head bent over, directing his gaze at her. She offered a tight, close-lipped smile in apology. Snape sighed sharply, returning his attention to his papers.

Before she could really stop herself, she spoke. Not an uncommon trait in her. "So I eventually did find Professor Dumbledore's office," She mentioned casually.

If Snape had his wand at the ready, based on his expression, Nora could have been certain that he was putting a silent hex on her in that moment. "Your intellect is truly astounding." He retorted, giving her a sneer almost worthy of Mr. Malfoy's.

Nora clamped her mouth shut, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. She hurriedly read the clock. Only sixty seconds had passed? She supposed she could simply content herself with reading the first chapter of her textbook and waiting out the next five minutes. She tried this for barely a minute, but her thoughts strayed and she bit her lip, looking to Snape again, whose greasy black hair had fallen into his face as he read his papers. She wanted to kick herself, but she spoke again, ignoring the voice in her head.

"Professor Snape?"

It was becoming obvious that Snape was not an overly expressive person, so his physical nature usually gave away his feelings. For at that moment, his hand that rested on the desktop clenched savagely as he again slowly lifted his head, his black eyes looking murderous. He didn't answer her, so Nora continued with her question.

"I was wondering. Since you're my Head of House now, and I'm new to Slytherin, is there anything important I should know? You know, any little pep talk you give your students?"

"Only, Miss Kerensky," He said in a harsh, dangerous tone, "that when your mouth eventually meets your brain, perhaps _then_ you can consider yourself a true Slytherin."

Normally, this would have affronted Nora, but she saw other insinuations in the insult. "You don't think I'm meant for Slytherin either." She said this just loud enough for him to hear her. But Snape didn't have a chance to reply, as the dungeon door opened and the rest of the fifth years filed in. Nora spotted Harry and Ron as they also sat in the very back row on the opposite side. She smiled at them in greeting and watched amused as the tips of Ron's ears turned a delicate shade of crimson as he smiled back. Harry nodded at her solemnly, offering a tight smile. Nora didn't even see Hermione at first, who sat on the farthest end of the desk with Ron and Harry. She didn't look at Nora.

When the bell rang, the last two spaces to sit were next to Nora. The tardy Slytherins that came running in at the last minute gave displeased grunts as they sat down next to her.

"Settle down. Quiet!" Snape ordered as he closed the classroom door, though everyone had shut their traps at his first word. He reached his desk, turning swiftly as he leaned against it and surveyed the students suspiciously. He went on to explain the great necessity at studying Potions with particular vigor this year, as their O.W.L.s were bound to challenge them greatly. Soon, after a few more of his depressing notes, the lesson began. That day they mixed the Draught of Peace. Nora inwardly groaned when, with a flick of Snape's wand, a complicated list of ingredients and procedure for the potion appeared on the blackboard. Her stomach gave another involuntary lurch when she remembered that all her new teachers would have seen her previous grades, meaning Snape knew how badly she usually did in Potions. Nora bit her lip as she went to the cabinets to collect the first ingredients. She almost had a newfound eagerness to prove herself.

Almost.

Nora thought she was doing everything correctly until, with five minutes left to go, her caldron started to bubble more than was necessary, almost reaching the brim before she stopped the flame burning beneath it and used a cooling charm. When the potion finally simmered down it had turned a dark, murky green. Snape had called time and started his examination of each student's potion. Only about a fourth of them had the correct silver vapor rising delicately from their caldron, Hermione included. Nora took the precious time before Snape could reach her to skim over the directions again, trying to see what she skipped. She heard snickering from the Slytherins as Snape taunted Harry and his mess of a potion that was emitting a steady stream of black mist. Nora shook her head as she quickly read the last of the ingredients and method on the blackboard. She'd done everything so carefully, what had happened?

"Miss Kerensky, what a waste of precious ingredients," Nora jumped. Snape stood behind her, towering above her as he looked over her shoulder into the caldron. Nora felt her skin crawl at the man being so close, "Then again I did not expect much more from you."

Nora clenched her jaw as Snape moved away to the front of the class. The moment he left, the two Slytherin boys next to her snorted and stifled laughter. She glared at them pointedly, and then her expression dropped in horror as they held up the small, corked bottle of Essence of Occamy. They smirked knowingly and it took a great willpower for her to not take her potion and dump it on their heads. She indeed had done her potion correctly, until the two sneering bastards beside her had contaminated it when she wasn't looking.

"Fill one flagon with a sample, label your name on it and leave it at my desk for testing. Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its use in potion-making due on Thursday."

Once Nora placed her useless potion sample on Snape's desk, she hurried back to her caldron, gathering her books quickly and ignoring the snickering of the two Slytherin boys. She was one of the first out of the class and climbing the dungeon stairs. So irritated by the incident, she didn't even register someone calling her name until she felt a nudge at her shoulder. She turned in the surprise to see Harry, his expression matching what she felt on the inside.

"Hey, I heard what Snape said to you," Harry said sympathetically, "Just wanted to tell you not to take it personally. He's a bastard to everybody."

Despite the shame and anger flowing through her veins at that very moment, she forced a small smile in thanks, "I heard what he said to you too. You didn't deserve that," She turned her eyes from him to the classroom door, "It was just such a damned complicated potion."

"Yeah, Snape's fond of those," Harry spat, obviously recalling his past memories with spite, "What have you got after lunch?" He questioned brightly.

"Ah, History of Magic, then I've gotta hit the library and start on Snape's essay and Flitwick's homework—"

"Harry, ready for lunch?" Ron's fire-red head appeared next to Harry, Hermione behind him, her head bent as she shoved a quill into her bag, though Nora was sure it was just something to avoid her again. Harry nodded distractedly, giving Nora another comforting smile before turning to go. Ron grinned lopsidedly at her, his cheeks momentarily matching his hair as he walked away, Hermione giving stealthy shoves at his back.

Nora started up the stairs again, but slowly, a few stragglers whipping past her. When she finally reached the first floor, she realized she was quite alone, the students ahead of her racing around the corner in a rush to lunch. Nora sighed, clutching her bag to her. In the back of her mind, a prickling sensation told her she was not as alone as she thought. Ignoring the warning, Nora continued on, her footsteps echoing as they slapped against the stone floor. Another red flag sprang up in her head as she turned the corner, one she hadn't felt since being at her old school. Out of nowhere, a pale hand shot out, grabbing her robes with frightening strength. Her first impulse was to scream, but her assailant predicted this and a clean hand clamped over her mouth as she was shoved against the wall, her attacker slamming his arm across her chest to make sure she wouldn't move. Nora shook hysterically, so many memories flooding back to her as she finally looked into his face, her eyes widening when she realized it was Malfoy holding her in his grip. His straight, white teeth were bared in rage and he breathed with as much rapidity as she.

"I..._told_ you _not_ to speak with him." He growled.

Nora whimpered against his hand. It would be so easy. So simple to fling him off her. But he couldn't know.

"I _told_ you." He spat.

Nora, confused and frightened, shot wild glances in every direction. Surely there had to be _someone_ close.

"This is your second warning, Kerensky. The next one you won't forget so easily." And his arm pushed her a little tighter against the wall. He was obviously looking for some sort of reply, even though his hand was still firmly planted over her mouth. So Nora tensely shook her head. A smile played along his lips for a moment before dropping and his head spun to the other side of the corridor where she came from. Nora heard the footsteps for a split second before her world turned upside down. For in a flurry of motion, Malfoy took his hands away and instead wrapped one behind her neck and the other around her waist before planting his mouth on hers. Nora could only register shock at that moment before he became more insistent, obviously wanting her to respond. In a moment she knew why. Snape came around the corner, halting upon seeing them. Malfoy let it go on for another second before "seeing" Snape out of the corner of his eye. He leapt away from Nora, his face one of fake surprise at seeing their teacher. Nora didn't have to conjure surprise on her features.

Snape glared at the two of them, his black eyes traveling from one to the other. "This is neither the place nor the time for that," he hissed, "To lunch, both of you."

A ghost of a smile fluttered on Malfoy's lips before he grabbed Nora's hand and made her run with him the whole way to the Great Hall. When they reached the doors, both were panting, having traveled a couple of floors to get there. Nora wrenched her hand from his, itching to slap him. He turned to her and his finger gently caressed her jaw line before Nora yanked that away too.

"Don't forget." He warned, and he slipped into the Hall.

---

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always appreciated :)


	5. Scars of the Past

Well I took this chapter out due to the fact that it was never viewed. Made me a little sad. So I'm reposting it to see if it catches anyone's eye. Thank you for reading!

sancti

Warning: references to self-mutilation

Chapter 5: Scars of the Past

Nora never had lunch that first day. When Malfoy had left her, she tore to the Slytherin dormitories, willing herself not to retch all over the common room. Instead she made it to the secluded lavatory, vomiting what little breakfast she had into the first toilet. Pale and shaking, she washed out her mouth before trudging up to her shared room. It was also thankfully empty, everyone still at lunch. She could have cried. It would've been very easy. But long ago she'd promised herself that whatever they did, she'd never break. She had to be strong—for her own survival. She sat slumped at the end of her bed, her tumultuous emotions keeping her from even thinking straight.

The first thought that actually registered and stayed was the kiss. It was her first. And Malfoy of all people stole it from her. She felt more bile creep up her throat, but she swallowed it back down. Then there was his irrational anger. He'd treated her like she betrayed him. Was Harry Potter that much of an enemy? Where was the threat? And most importantly, why did Malfoy care so much?

Nora dwelled on this for another hour, scratching behind Maximus' ears as he slept, before remembering she still had History of Magic. She reluctantly gathered her bag and made sure to be the last person to get to class. She looked at no one, especially ignoring Malfoy. Her attention stayed glued on the transparent Professor Binns as he droned on about Giant wars. She took down notes the entire time, not sparing a glance at anyone and ignored her growling stomach aching for her missed lunch. As soon as the lesson neared an end, Nora gathered her things so when the bell rang, all she had to do was stand up and leave. No one stopped her as she made her way to the library, getting lost for ten minutes before she found it.

The library was fairly secluded; most students were probably still easing themselves back into the schoolwork routine. Nora found an empty table towards the back and set to work on Snape's essay first. After researching and writing nearly seven inches, she cleared her head and moved onto studying the chapters Binns assigned. There was still half of an hour until dinner, so she left her table, finding a remote corner on the floor to practice Charms. Along with Summoning, Professor Flitwick had had them working on Growth Charms and Nora was looking forward to attempting them some more. Making sure Madam Pince was nowhere near, she removed a random book from the shelf beside her, and giving her wand a flick, she tapped the worn, red cover and murmured,

"_Minimosto_." To her horror and odd delight, the book shrunk to the size of a galleon. Gulping, Nora replaced the book, deciding to try a different object. But the sound of a cushioned thump a few feet away halted her from turning her quill into a hummingbird's feather. Nora looked in the direction of the noise to see the round-faced boy from the train trying to balance several books in his arms, looking dejected at the fallen volume.

"Hi," Nora greeted him. He obviously hadn't known she was there and more manuscripts toppled from his arms. Nora cringed, getting up and helping him gather his books, "I'm sorry—Trevor was it?"

His lips pursed as he accepted one of the books from her. "N—no, it's Neville. Trevor's my frog."

Nora shut her eyes a moment in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Neville—"

"No, it's all right. You're Nora?"

She couldn't help but feel worse that he remembered _her_ name. "Yeah, look, do you need any help with this?" Nora hesitated replacing the last book on his stack that already reached his chin.

He tried to look affronted by her question and confidently answered, "No, I've got it. This is nothing."

Biting her lip, Nora placed the volume on his stack, watching his face contort a little at the added weight. An awkward silence followed for a few seconds, Neville struggling with his burden, Nora crossing and uncrossing her arms. Then they both decided to speak at once,

"So, how's your first day—"

"What's your day been like—"

Neville gave a little laugh, a thin sheen of sweat starting under his brow. Nora decided to go first, a little worried about his uneven breathing. "Oh, it's, you know, new school and all—"

"How's Slytherin treating you?"

Nora was almost shocked at his seemingly genuine concern, his eyebrows drawn in and temple creased. Then again it could've just been the load in his arms, which now jerked every once and a while and Nora wasn't sure how much longer the boy would be able to support his burden.

"Just where are you going with all this," Nora asked, partly to escape his question and still concerned about his waning strength.

He gave as much of a shrug as he could. "I've gotta check them out, then bring them back to Gryffindor Tower."

"Are you going to carry them all there? Why not use a Levitation Charm?"

His face reddened a bit, either out of embarrassment or exhaustion. "N—no, I couldn't. I mean, I could, but Peeves likes to come around and knock the books over when we do that."

"Peeves?"

"Yeah, the poltergeist."

Nora blinked. The Headmaster allowed a poltergeist to wander about and terrorize the students? "Well, what does he look like, so I'll know?"

Neville gave a nervous, mirthless laugh. "Oh, you'll know. Er...would you mind taking a couple of these so I can check them out?"

He didn't have to ask twice. Immediately, Nora relieved him of half the stack. Her own nervousness abated when the color in his face returned to normal and the small beads of sweat stopped forming on his forehead.

"So what's it like, you know, living with Slytherins?" Neville asked, gulping.

After leaving the library, Neville agreed to let her help him carry the books to Gryffindor Tower. Nora had hoped he would've forgotten about the question. She shrugged nonchalantly, keeping her eyes 

glued on the gold letters of the title on the top of her stack. "Well, it's no picnic. So far all I have to do is ignore them and they ignore me."

Neville stared at her in awe, his slightly over-large front teeth showing from his open mouth. "I couldn't do it. They'd tear me apart. Then again I don't think the Sorting Hat would have put me there. Not that there's anything wrong with you!" Neville insisted rapidly.

Nora smiled as they reached the last set of stairs going up to Gryffindor Tower. "I was as surprised as you when the hat placed me there. I'm still in shock."

"Why _were_ you placed there anyway?"

Nora opened her mouth to answer, but faltered. She wanted to say, "Because of my blood." Instead, she shook her head and shrugged a shoulder. "I have no idea."

"Well, if it means anything, I think you'd be better in Gryffindor," Neville hastily looked away after he said it.

--

Dinner was nothing special. At the Slytherin table, everyone was talking about one dim topic after another. The usual silly chatter about who was going out with whom, who had already received detention and the like. Nora ignored it all, jabbing at the caramelized carrots on her plate. She missed Romanian food. Sure this all tasted fine, but she'd been getting stomachaches since she'd left Romania. She missed vegetable sour soup, jellied pork, wine pudding. Heck, she'd even take the boiled tongue her father had insisted for so many years that she try.

"Potty made a right wanker of himself in Potions. It was priceless."

Nora's head snapped up and suddenly she was rapt by the conversation. Malfoy of course had opened his mouth to insult Harry. Parkinson cackled nauseatingly as she draped herself all over Malfoy.

"Won't be the last time," Parkinson suggested callously, "You watch him in Quidditch. I think he's getting worse every year."

These remarks went on, each of Malfoy's friends adding something more cruel. Nora found herself opening her mouth several times, wanting to defend Harry. But her courage faltered and as the topic came to a close, Malfoy furtively gave her a knowing look and grinned maliciously. Nora snapped her eyes back to the food on her plate.

When dinner ended, Nora trudged along with all the others to their dormitories. She, unlike the rest of her peers, disliked the evening now that she was forced to spend it either in the Slytherin dungeons or the library—and even that was open to students only until eight o'clock. She didn't like the idea of sitting amongst them in the common room, and there was nothing to do in her dorm but read, and she'd done her fair share for the day already. She supposed she could write a letter to Nan—then Nora remembered that she didn't even know where Nan was.

Nora elected to spend her evening in her dorm; it would be empty for a few hours anyway with the other girls in the common room. As she sat propped up in her bed, reading her History of Magic textbook, and neglecting to give notice to what it said, it finally hit her how horribly alone she was. Her housemates had pinned her as their general enemy it seemed, her Head of House took her for a ninny and she couldn't talk to those of the other Houses, who either thought her also as an enemy or she was forbidden to speak with them.

Utterly and horribly alone.

_Concentrate, _Nora chastised herself, _A rapid series of battles broke out between the Giants and dragons over territory in 1792 to 1796 called the_—

Nora couldn't help thinking about Malfoy's kiss again. She could still feel his lips, his hands on her body. She grimaced, her skin crawling. He could have done anything else instead of pretending they were making out. But he had to choose the cruelest and most invasive. And then _Snape_ had to see. So now Snape not only thought she was stupid, but a whore too.

Lovely.

_Pay attention! —in 1792 to 1796 called the Slavic War of the Giants. Both sides suffered immense casualties and each species nearly wiped out the other... _

Now the question was what did Harry Potter think of her? So far he was being nice to her, though she paid for it each time. She was trapped. And it wasn't fair. At least at her old school they were broken up into only two Houses, which allowed for little competition. Yet that usually didn't stop everyone there from ostracizing her. Nora vaguely recalled some of her memories. Only once was she ever happy, and that was doing pure magic. It seemed she was most gifted in Charms and Transfiguration. The others, Herbology, Arithmancy, Potions, Astronomy—well, those she always barely passed. The teachers had mostly respected her, all knowing the power of her family name. And though it was never outright and mentioned, meaning the...complications of Nora's father and herself, it was widely known that Count Kerensky had dappled in the Dark Arts with some very dark people. So it was only rumored that he had been Turned some years before and no one could prove it.

--

Nora flinched awake, disturbed by her alarm which was currently telling her that if she didn't wake up at that instant she'd fail all of her classes and live an idiot for the rest of her days. Nora wearily shut it off, surprised to find it reading six am. Her History of Magic textbook had slid to the floor and her body had sunk under the covers. Had she actually slept the whole night? That was a new development.

Naturally, her roommates were still snoring as Nora eased herself out of bed, gathering the things needed for her daily cleansing. Tiptoeing out the room, she made it to the girls' lavatory, stepping quickly into the farthest shower stall. The moisture felt splendid on her limbs and she knew she could stay there all morning. Though as she scrubbed her arms, the pleasant feelings left her. She'd made a habit of ignoring her arms. Why that day was different, she'd never know. She stared at the long, angry red scratches permanently etched up and down her pale skin. Some had faded to white scars, though still clearly visible. The others shown fiery red, evidence that it had been done not so long ago. Nora scrubbed the soapy washcloth against them, rubbing harder and faster, hoping, praying that they'd just wash right off. Instead, her whole arm started to bloom red and some of the cuts opened, stinging from the assault. Nora let out an exasperated cry, dropping the cloth and her whole body to the hard floor, the showerhead still spraying hot water against the welts as she brought her knees to her chest. She gasped, wanting to cry, but she refused, her eyes and nose burning, her skin throbbing. Nora hugged her pale shoulders, nails digging in, and she willed herself to calm down.

Nora knew she'd spent too much time there, for when she finally emerged from the shower stall and dressed, the other girls started grumpily entering. Nora quickly used a dehydrating charm, which dried her hair, put on her minimal makeup and left the Slytherin dungeons still before anyone else. She was one of the first to enter the Great Hall for breakfast and the food manifested nearly as soon as she opened the door. Some students (mostly sixth and seven years) were already there, many with textbooks next to their plates as they mechanically ate their meals. Nora remembered their N.E.W.T.S. were this year as well. She hadn't given much thought to her own O.W.L.s and was determined not to drive herself nuts about it. She'd just do her homework and rise to the challenge when it came. Tests weren't a thing to faze her anymore.

Nora sat down uneasily at the Slytherin table. Four other older students, boys, were also there. None of them lifted their heads to greet her, either too absorbed in their books, or they simply didn't care to look at her. Nora helped herself to some of the steaming food, wincing when the material of her shirt under her robes chafed against the tenderness of her arms. She reminded herself again that she couldn't let what happened that morning to ever repeat itself. Those scars and still-fresh cuts represented her past, not future.

As she ate her modest meal of eggs, sausage and toast, Nora mentally went over what her classes were for that day. Double Transfiguration was the first order of the day. Then double Herbology and lastly, Care of Magical Creatures.

Nora skimmed over her textbooks as she washed her modest repast down with sweetened tea. By the time 8:15 rolled around, students were coming to the Great Hall in droves. Her fellow Slytherins again ignored her, much to her delight. She'd rather be ignored than picked on. Though she thought she might have detected Parkinson whispering her name to her friends followed by "fat cow," as they passed her.

Nora leisurely gathered her things and left the table without a second glance. She still had little over a half-hour before class started, so she decided to go back to the Slytherin dormitories to perhaps try a few healing charms for her arms.

A great exodus of students whipped past her from all directions. Nora slowly maneuvered her way through, ignoring the curious stares of some of the more shameless students.

--

Nora narrowed her eyes at the spells she'd brought with her for this purpose. She hadn't tried many of them for a very long time—not since it was a necessity. But she'd brought the book along anyway, in case instances like these happened.

After a few hesitant moments, Nora tried the spell that had always been handy during the worst of times. She positioned her wand against the newest wounds and gently swept the tip down the length of the bloody lines, muttering the charm along each cut. The spell was effective, closing the wounds so they were simple red marks, which would eventually turn into scars. With some research and practice, Nora could probably make the scars vanish too. But she needed them as a reminder sometimes. A reminder of what can happen when one loses control.

By the time she was done, it was nearly nine. Nora hastily donned her white, button-up shirt and slipped on her black robes. She fed Maximus, who at that moment was kicking his feet in his sleep, gathered her books and fled out of the dorms, coming to an abrupt halt outside the common room when she heard voices. Angry voices.

"You are making a _fool_ of yourself!"

"Don't be preposterous! I saw what I wanted and went for it!"

Nora recognized both voices and stiffened. The argument was between none other than Snape and Malfoy.

"This is not about what you _want,_" Snape spat, "it's what you've gotten yourself into!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"There's something about that girl that is...abnormal."

Nora's heart did a swan dive into her stomach.

Malfoy scoffed, "You're being paranoid. Ever since talk of the Dark Lord's return—"

"_Silence_, you imbecile!"

A hush followed leaving Nora in suspense. Then Professor Snape said something in a tone she was certain he only used to intimidate his most deserving victims. Unfortunately, it was low enough for only Malfoy to hear. But it was enough to put Malfoy in his place, for he replied with a curt, "Yes, sir," followed by rapidly departing footfalls.

Nora listened carefully, noting the second person hadn't moved. She heard a sigh, definitely Snape's, before he too departed for what Nora hoped was the door out. She waited a few more moments, listening with all her might to make sure that when she opened the thick door, Snape wouldn't be standing across the room waiting with crossed arms. Nora glanced at her watch. She now had five minutes to make it to Transfiguration.

Sighing, she thought realistically. It wasn't a crime for her to be in the dormitories before class. Snape couldn't point her or anything. Only suspect her, and his grounds would be baseless. Mustering what little bravery she had, Nora readjusted the strap of her bag and threw back her shoulders, pushing open the door without hesitancy. Snape would surely be gone by then. Heading to his first class of the day. No reason for him to still be—

"Miss Kerensky!"

—perhaps there was a reason.

Nora froze, glancing to her left, where Snape had obviously been quietly conversing with a particularly unscrupulous portrait of a past Head of House. The portrait folded his skeletal hands and glared at her pointedly.

"A student out moments before class?" The old man leaned over to the professor's ear, "Snape, you should give her detention."

Nora gasped lightly. "Detention?"

Snape had been peering at her in suspicion since she set foot outside the dormitories. No doubt he thought she'd been listening through the door.

"Miss Kerensky, _what_ are you doing? Your first class starts in minutes!"

Words escaped Nora, as she hadn't thought up a lie. She couldn't tell him why she'd come back in the first place. She needed something, anything, to throw him off.

"I—um...had a _lady_ problem, sir." The words were out before she could really stop them and she clenched her jaw hoping they would have the desired effect.

A moment of confusion, then Snape's complexion paled more, if possible. His expression then turned into one of disgust. Even the portrait shut up, though Nora thought she heard him mumble something along the lines of, "filthy females."

Snape sighed sharply, jerking his head towards the corridor. "To class, Miss Kerensky."

Nora had no hesitation in obeying.

--

Nora sprinted to Transfiguration as if the raiders themselves were after her. She'd never know how she made it to the door when the bell rang. Perhaps she'd apparated and didn't even realize it.

She took her normal seat in the back, a natural reaction in order to avoid students and the teacher. Unfortunately, she was spotted anyway.

"Miss Kerensky, you're cutting it close," came Professor McGonagall's clipped voice from the front of the room, "Don't make a habit of it."

Nora made a barely discernible nod as she removed her wand and textbook. At the comment, she'd expected a cold chuckle from Malfoy, but when she heard none, she glanced around, surprised to see him also in the back row. He appeared anything but smug. Instead, his expression was devoid of any emotion and he stared at a fixed point on the stone floor.

Despite the odd morning, Nora's first class went well enough. She was pleased to discover she hadn't lost much of her skills over the summer. She even earned an approving nod and half smile from McGonagall when she successfully made her snail vanish. A few times Nora glanced over at Malfoy, but he had his chin rested on his arm as he lazily flicked his wand at the snail, muttering the charm with no success.

The rest of the week passed without incident. Malfoy for the most part ignored her, resented her even, giving foul sneers if she happened to cross his path. Snape was a little more genial. Nora had beat her brains out on his essay and handed him a roll of parchment fourteen inches long instead of twelve. Nora received a bitter nod from the potions master, but it was enough to ease the giant butterflies in her stomach. Harry was polite, but seemed busy and thankfully didn't say much more than a hello as they passed in the corridors. The remaining days Nora watched with disinterest. She made sure to leave the Great Hall when the mail arrived each morning. It was simply too depressing knowing not a piece of parchment was meant for her.

Saturday she spent by herself, holed up in the dormitory with homework until she could roam the grounds in the late afternoon. When Sunday finally came, Nora thought she might burst if she didn't talk to someone. Knowing it was a useless attempt, Nora sat down and wrote a letter to Nan anyway. She went on to express all the good things she could, leaving no room for her to suspect anything was wrong—if she even got the letter. Nora had no idea how she could get it. But for kicks, she addressed her full name and a couple possible locations.

Thankfully, the cloud cover was thick and pleasant, according to Nora anyhow. She climbed the stone steps to the owlry on light feet, feeling charged by the darkness of the sky and stiff cool breeze. The day couldn't have been more comfortable. The owlry was jammed packed with the majestic birds, the weekend mail bringing in quite a few extras. When she entered, all of them turned their lantern eyes to her, anticipating a trip. Sadly Nora had to choose one of the Hogwarts' owls and shrugged in apology when the others puffed their feathers and shook their heads, glaring disapprovingly. The owl Nora chose was small and old, but with intelligent eyes, and probably had been around long enough to know where everything was. Nora gently stroked his gray front and attached the note to his foot.

"I bet you can find my Nan, hm?"

The elderly owl seemed to wink knowingly and waddled from his perch before expanding his wings and taking off. Nora watched his form shrivel into a dot then disappear.

--

The frequency in Papa's visitors was fairly simple to gauge. He didn't have any. Especially in the dead of night. And knowledge of any visitors was easily identified. The great doors of their home had a recognizable groan that could resonate throughout the castle. Ergo, the reason as to why little five-year old Nora was awake.

Curiosity was a curse of Nora's. Regardless of how fearful the venture might be, she desired and required the solution for anything of particular interest to her. This is what brought the sleepy child to the cold stone of her father's corridors as she silently scurried to the front of the castle.

Nora didn't detect her father's voice at first. No doubt the senile Felix had greeted the visitors and allowed them entry. But Count Kerensky wasn't far off. No, he was quite recognizable when his booming voice filled the great hall. Nora cowered at the volume of it and hid herself behind the banister at the top-most landing of the staircase.

"_What_ are you doing here?"

The hall was not very well lit and Nora had a difficult time distinguishing any features. She did however notice the visitors, five of them, all turn towards her father, who with pounding footsteps entered from the study. Though Nora could not see them, it was quite apparent Count Kerensky knew exactly who they were. She also immediately deduced the visitors had come from a long way if Father was speaking English to them.

"My dear Viktor," a silky British voice answered, "it has been so terribly long."  
"Not long enough," Count Kerensky spat, standing only slightly taller than his "friend."

"Tsk, tsk, such hostility, my friend. Surely you missed _some_ of us..."

The intonation was lost upon young Nora, but Count Kerensky certainly caught it and was silent for a moment. "Why are you here?" His tone minimized to a displeased, gravely threat.

"We are here to cut a deal with you, Viktor. To prove a bit of your...loyalty, shall we say?"

"I am barely escaping the stake, you fool, and you _dare_ to bring your rabble to my door?!" Nora jerked at her father's tone. She was not used to the ferocity in his voice.

The visitor sighed, taking something from his robes and suddenly three torches in the hall were lit, casting a soft glow that reflected off the sleeping portraits and stone walls. Even with light Nora could not see the strangers' faces, as their backs were to her. But she could see they were all men, all strong, and all wearing black cloaks with hoods drawn up over their heads.

The Count was of course in his day clothes, the night was when he lived. But his thick black hair was untidy, as if he'd been running his hand through it as he did when stressed. His eyes were wild and his pale hands clenched and unclenched into fists. Nora was almost afraid of him. The strangers did not seem to be. The man who had been speaking took off his black gloves to reveal strong, slender pale hands.

"Now that's better. A little light does some good to this drab dwelling you call your home," he appeared to glance around a bit in slight disgust. "Such a shame you didn't keep up the place, Viktor. Was quite the stronghold in its time."

The Count ignored the stranger's statement. "Either tell me something useful, or leave."

The stranger inhaled sharply and motioned the count to the dark red antique sofa that no one had sat in for probably a decade. Dust rose unpleasantly when the stranger sat. The count remained standing. 

"As you know, my fellow Death Eaters have been recovering from the unfortunate circumstance we've found ourselves in. We are recuperating and…regrouping I shall put it."

The Count raised a dark, skeptical eyebrow. "Regrouping? Voldemort is dead."

There was a collective stirring amongst the strangers. The man who spoke bristled and sighed sharply. "The _Dark Lord_," he corrected, "is not lost forever. He will return, he has made certain of that in case anything were to happen to him…as in pieces of him are scattered about."

"That is fascinating," The Count replied dryly, "why are you telling me this? I stopped offering my services before the 'Dark Lord' died. I was relieved without punishment. Again, and for the last time I ask, why are you here?"

"I need to know," the stranger hissed, "that when the Dark Lord returns," his tone softened eerily, "you won't head for the hills, tail between your legs."

The Count narrowed his dark eyes, and then used them to scan the other strangers who were all oddly silent and still. "You are all delusional. Desperate," he turned his attention back to the leader, "I will make no such promise."

The stranger sighed sharply and stood. "There is another option, Viktor. You daughter. She is nearly five now, is she not?"

Nora's breath caught in her throat. She saw the expression she was probably making plainly on her father's features. His emotion though turned rapidly from shock to anger. His dark eyebrows drew in menacingly.

"Do you wish for death?"

"I wish for your patience and an open mind. It's really quite simple. I take your daughter to my residence and my wife and I will raise her as our own. Instead of attending that bucket of nails you call a school, Eleanor will receive a first-rate education from Hogwarts School or Witchcraft and Wiz—"

"I'm well aware of the school and its reputation," The Count snapped and he placed himself directly in front of the visitor. So close that the man seemed to be repulsed and stiffened, "And you believe I would hand over my daughter, my flesh and blood to a man like you to be raised as a soldier of Voldemort?"

Again the stranger stirred at the disrespect. "The Dark Lord will return. And when he does, which side would you like your daughter to be on? With the Mudbloods? They will perish under his hand—"

"My daughter is staying."

The stranger nodded slowly. "Then you promise your allegiance, Viktor?"

A moment of silence followed and the only movement was the Count shifting his weight to his other foot. "I do."

"Excellent," the stranger snapped his pale fingers and abruptly one of them left through the great door. The Count watched with narrowed eyes but stayed silent. But almost immediately the Count's expression twitched and he backed up a foot. The man that had left came back, but with a surprise in tow. Nora had to cover her mouth with both hands to stop herself from making any sort of peep. Being dragged along the floor behind the man was Sabina Dumitrescu—bound, gagged, and weeping.

The Count had to be immediately restrained as soon as he laid eyes on the woman. He was shouting at the strangers saying many words Nora had never heard him use before. The man brought the crying Sabina to her feet and Nora could see an ugly gash across her temple and her brown eyes were red as a devil from tears. Her rich chocolate hair was in disarray, contrary to the neat bun Nora was used to seeing whenever she was sent to the village with Nan.

"What do you want with her," the count yelled, though he wasn't restrained any longer, "She sells fruit in the town!"

The leader put a fist to his closed mouth in thought. "Viktor, have you heard of the blood pact?"

The Count's already white complexion paled in its own way to demonstrate shock. "…Yes," he whispered.

"Then you understand that to break the pact means death of the innocent the pact is made under?"

The Count nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Bring her forward."

Sabina squeaked in protest as the leader wrenched her. He stood her in front of him, hands grasping her arms tightly. "You are correct, Viktor. She's simply a farm girl who sells fruit and is coy with the young men. Innocent. Beautiful," the leader slid a pale finger down her cheek as Sabina whimpered in protest, "and the savior of you and your daughter."

He then removed her gag, tossing it on the floor. Sabina at once began to plead in Romanian, tears still in her throat. The muscles in the Count's face twitched as he listened to her pleas and he bit his cheek to keep back his own tears.

"You know what to do, Viktor." The leader took a blade from his overcoat and cut Sabina's restraints until she was free, then shoved her to the Count. He caught her and Sabina clung to him, weeping into his chest. He swallowed, looking at the leader with eyes that were beseeching him.

"I—I have not bitten in many years."

The leader chuckled bitterly. "Somehow I'm sure you will remember." He brought out a wand, whispering spells. Soft green sparks spilled lazily from his wand surrounding the Count and Sabina, slithering about them. "And don't try to give her your own blood, Viktor. It won't save her if you choose to break the pact."

The Count glared at the leader as if he'd been caught, then turned his attention to Sabina, lifting her head from his chest. She was still sputtering pleas in between sobs and the Count nodded in understanding, whispering words of comfort to her. He then brushed her long hair away from her face, taking her reddened cheeks in his hands, much as he would do when trying to comfort Nora. He kissed her forehead and asked her a question softly. She nodded, almost smiling. He moved one hand to her waist and the other to the back of her neck, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. Then with lightening speed, he moved to her neck.

A crunch made Nora jump. The torches in the room all flickered wildly and almost went out from a mysterious wind. The green gnat-like sparks that had been making their lazy rounds amongst the two turned an angry red and pierced both of them, melting into their skin. Blood bubbled out from Sabina's neck, staining her blouse. She screamed once, a long shriek of pain and surprise, and then her body went limp, the Count holding on to her waist still. Sabina's head bobbed back, her eyes wide open, staring at Nora.

Nora sat in complete shock. It took her a moment to realize she had fallen over and she was staring at the scene below with her head on the soft red carpet. With shaking limbs she moved back to a sitting position, not taking her eyes off Sabina's.

The Count then lifted Sabina and, cradled in his arms, then placed her bloody, motionless form on the old sofa. He knelt there beside her for a moment. One of the strangers walked over to them, also kneeled and began to treat Sabina.

"She will be fine," the leader said, retrieving his gloves and sliding them over his pale hands, "Her memory will be taken care of as well so you needn't hide. Though you seem fond of running away from your problems."

The Count didn't move, but took a white handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his face. It was stained dark red when he was finished. He then stood and stared at the cloth, at a loss as to what he should do with it. The leader motioned to the others and they filed out the great doorway.

"You see, Viktor? That was not so difficult. Just…behave. And young Sabina will live a long happy life. If you choose otherwise, your traitorous venom that now swims in her blood will poison her. Very simple, no?"

The person who treated Sabina whisked his wand about and said a few spells before pocketing it and lifting her, still unconscious, in his arms. He exited with the girl leaving the leader and the Count alone.

"Anything else before I leave you alone, my friend?"

The Count turned slowly. Nora could see where he missed a spot of blood. It was a smear across his chin. "If I ever see you near my home again, Lucius, I will kill you."

The leader bristled then nodded. "That is probably fair. Stay alert for his calling, Viktor. The Dark Lord will return."

The Count stayed motionless as the leader turned to leave. He made it to the door, but stopped abruptly. Then slowly turned his head. Nora suddenly felt ice water spill over her organs as the man stared at her, blue eyes ablaze.

Nora shot up in bed, the remnants of a scream escaping her throat. She was covered with sweat and her nightgown had ridden up to her waist. She covered her mouth too late to suppress the scream. Her breathing was rapid and only just started to return to normal. Her faculties returned to her and she started to notice her surroundings. The first thing she realized was her alarm clock going off. But it was daylight. And the beds were all empty.

"_You idiot. It is way past your time to awake!_" the clock screamed shrilly, "_You will fail everything. Wake up!_" Nora whipped around and shut the alarm off then swung her feet to the floor. When she stood, her knees gave out and she fell hard, knocking into her neighbor's nightstand. Nora stayed here on the floor weeping.

She knew her dream wasn't a dream. It was as real a memory as if it happened yesterday. But she didn't remember it yesterday. Or the day before. She had no idea it happened. Had she suppressed it on her own? Or did someone else do it?

When she could feel her legs again, Nora carefully got back on her feet. She gave the clock a glance. 8: 55. Nora swore in her language and tore to her chest to take out clothes.

When Nora arrived at her Charms class it had already begun. Professor Flitwick was on his normal stack of dusty books and he stopped talking when she entered the classroom. Nora nodded at him and took a seat next to a meaty Slytherin who grinned at her displaying two rows of crooked teeth.

Nora spotted her roommates who instead of snickering at her as she expected, they gave her short, dare she think concerned or even frightened, glances. The Ravenclaws on the other side of the room stared at her in ridicule. She knew what she must have looked like. Her hair was not brushed and her robe was wrinkled. The only things Nora had been able to do were throw on clothes and brush her teeth.

The Professor chose not to say anything and continued teaching but Nora did not listen to him. Her eye had caught Malfoy's a few rows away. He was staring right at her, Parkinson next to him whispering something in his ear with urgency. His expression was deadpan. Then something Pansy said seemed to spark his interest and he jerked his head towards her. Pansy blinked in surprise and as if Malfoy was a wild animal, she slowly pulled away and concentrated on the professor. Malfoy returned his gaze to Nora and she couldn't help but feel again that sensation of ice water splashing her insides.

--

I hope it was somewhat decent. I can't believe how out of practice I am. I would appreciate any comments. I'm a starving artist you know. Thanks bunches!!

sancti


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